


Peaches and Cream Drabbles

by FeckedSpectrum



Category: Kamisama Hajimemashita | Kamisama Kiss
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-20
Updated: 2015-03-20
Packaged: 2018-03-18 19:35:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3581385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeckedSpectrum/pseuds/FeckedSpectrum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, a dear wonderful person requested that I write some Akura-ou/Nanami, so I wrote some drabbles and organized them from most depressing to least depressing so you can end on a high note.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peaches and Cream Drabbles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Myahle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myahle/gifts).



                “Take it.”

                The blonde god frowned down at him from his throne, as if the mere sight of him was enough to sicken Ookunushi a little. “If we could have done that, we would have long ago.”

                “Figure it out now,” Akura-ou growled, muscles taut in an attempt to keep himself from flinging himself at the stubborn gods and slaughtering them. “I want you to take it from me.”

                “We can’t.”

                “She’s dying, dammit!” he yelled, voice managing to crack a bit. They had to take it, they always wanted it. They had to be able to do it, if they were too weak then it would be right for him to kill him. Ground his heel into this noisy little ant hill, let them beg for their lives in turn for that glare they leveled while he was on his knees before them.

                “Humans do that,” Ookunushi said, eyes flitting to the side to hide the wavering of his absolutism. “I already know that no one can do this, even in exchange for your immortality. It was already decided when you were both born, that she would die and you would not.”

                The gods ended up calling Tomoe to take him from Izumo before he managed to slaughter them. He would get so close, ripping skin like silk before he saw her face, heard her voice in his ear. _You’re not really like that, are you, Akura-ou? I think you honestly try to be kind, sometimes._

                Tomoe wouldn’t speak, wouldn’t look at him for the longest time as they traveled in the night carriage. As soon as the doors shut, he took his arms from where they looped around Akura-ou’s waist and found a corner of the wall to stare at. The fox shouldn’t be here, he was supposed to be at the shrine, by her side…

                He knew it before the fox said anything, the cold feeling the words left snuffing out all the warmth in his body.

                “She passed this morning. It was peaceful, like she deserved.”

                She never deserved that. She deserved so much better.

***

She couldn’t lose him like this. She couldn’t lose him now.

Once before he locked himself away, and she had to dig him out from the past. Once before, she had to make him love her more than he loved bloodshed.

She would do it again. She would carve him forth from what she knew he was, what Ookuninushi never believed he was. She could save him from himself again.

But tonight, he wasn’t hers. Tonight, the streets felt darker than they should. Tonight, she was losing hope, hardly able to wear her strength in knotted fists and stiff lips when she trembled from the cold and nearly whimpering from her dark thoughts.

She was going to save him, wasn’t she? She could write the end of this story, couldn’t she?

Even when she couldn’t make herself believe so, she forced herself to wear her determination on her face, in her squared shoulders, making fists in her hands as if she could stand a chance fighting the dark character in front of her.

The one Tomoe ran back to. The one who raised Tomoe.

Akura-ou.

“I’m not giving up,” she declared, voice wavering. She wasn’t weak though, she couldn’t afford to be weak in front of a yokai like him. “I love Tomoe. He loves me. He’ll come back to the shrine when he returns to himself.”

Red eyes bored into her, his face too blank for her memory of that childish character, grinning at canned peaches and smearing blood on the streets of old alleys.

“He’s going to come back to me, I know he will!”

She had to hold her breath deep in her chest to keep it from sobbing, tears already threatening to spill onto her cheeks. She believed it, she believed he would come back, didn’t she?

Her gaze was fixed on the ground, trying to hide that silent, faltering moment, then shrouded in darkness as the smell of old leather wrapped around her. That old leather jacket was thrown on top of her head, held there by a hand that had no right to be so gentle.

“You’re not going to cry in front of me, so cry now. I won’t see it,” Akura-ou muttered, ruffling her hair through the jacket.

She hiccupped a gasp, tears falling forth without her permission. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Be nice,” Nanami muttered. “Tomoe won’t be happy with you. He has to be with me.”

“The fox goes where he wants,” Akura-ou answered, fingers tapping an odd rhythm on her head. “It’s painful, isn’t it? When he doesn’t want to be with you. You wouldn’t give him back though, would you?”

“No.” She never intended to. She was supposed to have him beyond her mortal years. She loved him.

And Akura-ou did too.

The land god rubbed at her eyes, pulling at the jacket, but the hand spread over the top of her head kept it in place. “I don’t wanna see it,” the demon growled.

“See what?”

“Your face, all teary and red and blubbery. I’ve seen it a lot of times, even you couldn’t make it look pretty.”

She stifled a giggle, which came out sounding more like a sob. Soon, she was tucked against Akura-ou’s chest, halfway between a headlock and a hug.

“The fox goes where he’s happy. When he’s back to normal, he’ll probably run back to you. He’s not an idiot,” Akura-ou whispered, voice unnaturally steady, unwilling to betray any pain.

Nanami pulled her hands from under the jacket, wrapping her arms around the demon’s chest.

She wanted to help him with his pain, even if he wouldn’t let her see it.

***

                The child’s beady eyes followed her every move, perhaps entranced, perhaps predatory. Tomoe wasn’t pleased with either option.

                “You cannot keep a wild oni in this shrine,” the familiar groused, glaring at the child-sized version of Akura-ou. “He’ll return to normal soon enough, without our help.”

                “Why would I need you guys anyway?” the redhead squeaked. “You said I’m gonna grow up to be even bigger and stronger. I don’t need anyone now, so I won’t need anyone ever.”

                Tomoe was forgetting one very important consideration.

                Nanami had a weakness for adorable children.

                The cupboards soon gave up their spoils, a tin of canned peaches in one hand and a can opener in the other. “This will prove we’re good friends in the future. If this isn’t the most delicious thing you’ve ever eaten, then you can leave.”

                Akura-ou pouted at her, eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Like a human could keep me here,” he muttered, popping a syrupy fruit into his mouth. He beamed for an unguarded second before regaining composure, but Nanami knew she had won. “I don’t think we’re friends,” the small demon asserted, throwing Nanami off.

                “What?”

                “You said I’m a king, and you know my favorite foods and stuff,” Akura-ou said between globs of bright orange fruit. “So you’re my concubine, aren’t you?”

                Tomoe waited for Nanami to protest, but she was caught off guard, blushing instead.

*

                It took every ounce of willpower she had left not to fall forward and fall asleep on the dinner table. Tomoe was watching her smugly, as if he knew she was one minute away from being comatose, saying to himself, ‘I told you so.’

                But she felt bad for the tiny bundle of everlasting energy. His golden eyes shouldn’t be so wide, his cheeks shouldn’t carry a slight blush, he shouldn’t grin at her with such an adorable, toothy grin.

                His arms looped around one of hers, pulling her to the side. “Nana-nee, I’m bored. I’m so bored. Play a game with me, I’m bored.”

                “It’s the middle of the night, aren’t you even a teensy bit tired, Akura-ou?” Nanami asked, while the tiny demon just stared at her like she was speaking a foreign language.

                “Play! Play a game! Play a game with me!”

                “You can watch the television until morning,” Tomoe said, tugging on one of Akura-ou’s tiny horns. “It’s my turn to play with Nanami.”

                Her cheeks burned, possibly from the lack of oxygen in her blood as she had stopped breathing for a moment. That fox could turn a flirty phrase and embarrass her in a heartbeat.

                Akura-ou pouted, glaring up at Tomoe. “Nope! Nana-nee is my human. She has to play with me.”

                The familiar glared back at him, sinking to a child’s level. “Nanami isn’t anyone’s, but if she was she would be mine because I met her first!”

                Something warm and wet suddenly met Nanami’s cheek as she gasped in shock. Akura-ou pulled back, tongue now sticking out at Tomoe. “I licked her so she’s mine!”

                Nanami held up her hands in supplication before Tomoe could lick the other side of her face. “I’m tired! If I don’t get some sleep, I’m going to be very grumpy and I won’t want to play with either of you!”

                “You won’t want to play with me?” the little oni asked, eyes growing wide with the horror of the thought.

                “I won’t! I won’t even go to the store to buy more peaches, so you’ll have to eat vegetables all day.”

                “Geez, go to sleep then, you noisy woman!” Akura-ou demanded, pushing at her arms. “You’re not fun at all if you’re grumpy!”

                Nanami had never slept so soundly, after being so soundly worn out.

***

             She might have managed to actually anger the Bloodthirsty King, but she couldn’t stop laughing.

             “I swear to all the gods if you don’t put that down, I will leave you. I will hide in the world of yokai and never come out and you will never find me.” He crossed his arms and growled, unable to even look at her. “It’s racist, that’s what it is. I won’t have it, I won’t tolerate it.”

            She still held the tiger print briefs aloft from the clearance bin, still laughing at the thought of the king wearing them and holding a club aloft, looking like a wild oni from a traditional print. “But it’s actually furry on the sides! It’s soft, see?”

           He suddenly pressed her hand to his lips, smirking at her. “All the better for your legs to wrap around, my dear.”

           It was his turn to laugh at her embarrassment, tossing the briefs back into the bin.

***

                Nanami had pretty much memorized Akura-ou’s hands.

                He was naturally a fan of skin-ship, always reaching for her hands, resting his elbows on her shoulders, playing with her hair. If she didn’t love it, she’d say he was clingy.

                He was always so handsy, so when he said he would let her do anything with that length of red rope, an evil thought crept into her mind.

                He said he wanted to try something new, but she didn’t cave so easily. It seemed a little too dangerous to be bound for the Bloodthirsty King’s entertainment. He wasn’t a fan of moderation, and was very likely to keep her bound as long as he liked. But he found a new way of convincing her, by handing her the reins first and letting himself be the first experiment into shibari.

                Even if her knot-work wasn’t as intricate as the reference pictures, he looked pretty with his hands behind his back, loops of red rope traveling up his arms, knotting at his shoulders and criss-crossing around his chest. With his wild looks and his wild personality, seeing him so physically caged was erotic. It was submission.

                It was entirely too tempting.

                But Nanami was slow, vengefully slow, running her fingers through his hair but keeping her lips a breath away, despite his attempts to lean forward and capture them. He huffed, shoulders tensing as he tested the bonds that dared to keep him under her thumb. “I didn’t get tied up just to play hairdresser.”

                She reached over his shoulders and let her nails drag lightly over his back, drawing a contented sigh from her oni. “I didn’t tie you up to play hairdresser.”


End file.
